The Enduring Power of Influence
It was a striking remark of a dying man, whose life has been, alas! but poorly spent, “O, that my influence could be gathered up, and buried with me!” It could not be. That man's influence survives him; it still lives, is still working on, and will live and work through all time. When he came to die, and perceived how sad and injurious his influence had been, he could not put forth his dying hand and arrest that influence. It was too late; he had put in motion an agency which he was altogether powerless to stop. His body could be buried out of sight, but not his influence; for that, alas! corrupt and evil as it is, there is no tomb, no funeral. It walks the earth a pestilence—like the angel of death.—Selected.